


i will make you believe you are lovely

by Just_A_Trashcan



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scars, Trans Gavin Reed, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 18:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18197990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_A_Trashcan/pseuds/Just_A_Trashcan
Summary: Five days of paid leave means Gavin Reed has no work to distract him from his thoughts. His mental state deteriorates rapidly, but luckily Nines is there to make it better.





	i will make you believe you are lovely

**Author's Note:**

> This shit ain’t gonna be happy lmao

**_Monday, 4th April 2039, 9:07 am_ **

 

Gavin’s icy fingers clutched the zipper of his leather jacket. His messy bedroom was dimly lit, the light turned way down low as he stood in front of the full length mirror on the back of his door. He was supposed to be at work right now, chasing a perp or up to his throat in paperwork or interrogating suspects, not on a week-long period of paid leave doing nothing at home.

 

Pumpkin had been confused when the detective returned home early. The pregnant cat had purred and rubbed up against his legs, leaving dark ginger fur all over Gavin’s jeans. Not like Gavin particularly cared, a quick spin in the clothes dryer usually fixed it. So instead of scolding her, the detective had knelt down and rubbed under her chin, over her tummy and the base of her tail, making the cat purr softly.

 

Of course Nines was still at work, likely working with Anderson and his plastic pet. The former slur held little bite now- it was nothing more than a nickname. Regardless, it meant that Gavin was alone and unsupervised, which brought its own set of problems- Gavin drowned himself in work for a reason. His mind burned with self hate, and overworking starved him of oxygen, metaphorically.

 

The detective found himself stoking the flames, carefully taking off his precious jacket. It had been somewhat oversized when he received it twenty-something years ago from his half-brother at the age of seventeen, but it fit well now. The black leather was worn in some places, particularly the elbows. It was stained with the faint scent of cigarette smoke and vanilla. And it reminded him of before. Before he came out and was kicked to the street, before Elijah ignored him some time after becoming world famous, before avoiding and ignoring pain was part of Gavin’s daily routine.

 

Gavin sighed softly in defeat, removing his dark blue hoodie and his black Marvel shirt. He was left in plain blue jeans and his sneakers, his hands trembling as he set his shirt on the bed. He’d planned to just change into his pyjamas and sleep, but he was frozen, looking at himself in the mirror. How did Nines find him attractive with all these scars? Most people had a few, yeah, but Gavin looked like he’d been in a war.

 

The fingers of his right hand brushed hesitantly over his left forearm. The scars were haphazardly spaced- a few small ones clustered closer to his wrist, with deeper ones closer to his elbow and bordering where the hair started to show. They were a dark pink, and Gavin could feel the phantom sensations of the nights he lost to himself.

 

_ It was midnight, and Gavin was leaning against the bathroom door with a small blade clutched between this thumb and forefinger. One of Elijah’s fancy pencil sharpeners that he used to sharpen his pencils when sketching the designs for those stupid robots of his that he kept trying to create. The things were expensive, and sharp. Gavin knew this too well, his sleeve pulled up to his elbow as he dragged the blade across a scar on his arm, near his wrist. Blood welled up and spilled rapidly, the crimson liquid trickling rapidly over Gavin’s arm and knee, down his bare legs. He wore a pair of simple underwear and a worn sweatshirt- red, so any blood wouldn’t show. _

 

_ The long matted mess he called hair, tangled from it being in a tight bun for a week straight, got caught in the sticky blood, and he brushed it away carelessly- he’d have a shower soon, with the lights turned off so he didn’t have to see himself. Elijah would be disappointed that he relapsed again, but Gavin couldn’t help it, not while he was still in the closet to literally everyone- even the brother he trusted with his life. The pain of the blade gave him control, and it helped him cope with the inside pain. _

 

Gavin’s fingers jerked away from his arm like it burned, his hands shaking harder than before. The scars seemed to taunt him- tempting him, telling him that he could just fix all this with a knife, or a pencil sharpener blade like before, or the shitty razor he used to shave every few mornings. But he couldn’t, he’d only hurt himself once since he started dating Nines, and that had been almost a year ago.

 

His gaze in the mirror moved from his arm up to his shoulder, across to his collarbone and down to his chest, his hand following his eyes to his top surgery scars. It had only been about half a year, the marks still an angry red that glared out from under his pecs and down his sides to the bottom of his ribcage, a smaller mark going from each areola to the pectoral scars. Inverted-T surgery was the only one suitable for his body, and the scars were a constant reminder that he was born  _ wrong _ , he had to put money and time and effort into becoming comfortable with his body, and he was still  _ wrong _ . He’d come out of the surgery with a hormone crash, feeling like he’d made an awful mistake, and it had lasted for a whole week up until Nines commented on how beautiful he looked. Gavin scoffed to himself- how could Nines see beauty in this?

 

He balled his hands into fists, digging his nails- what was left of them, at least- into his palms. His reflection stared back at him, taunting him. It showed everything he hid, everything he didn't want to remember. Everything that was wrong and disgusting about him. Nothing was good or nice or beautiful. It was pain. He was nothing but pain, and would never be more than that, never the person Nines thought he was.   
  
Gavin clenched his jaw and tried ripping his gaze away from the mirror. Nothing. He couldn't move, stuck staring at his own wrongdoings. His eyes burned with oncoming tears as he tried blinking them away. He was weak, crying at his own fucking reflection.

  
He pressed his hands against the cold mirror, face twisting in pain as he collapsed to the floor and curled into a ball, gripping his legs to his chest as he let a scream into his knees that was so full of agony that Pumpkin scratched at the bedroom door, letting out a concerned mewl.   
  
The tears spilling down his cheeks made his skin hot and flushed and itchy but Gavin didn’t care, bawling like a child into his jeans. Why did he have to be born wrong? Why was his brain so fucked up that he went as far as mutilating his own flesh? What did he do to make his mother hate him so much that she slapped him after coming out, nail catching his cheek and causing the thick scar that went over the bridge of his nose? Why did Elijah have to kick him down by naming his first android after Gavin’s dead name?   
  
Why, why, why?

His thoughts continued racing, heart picking up speed, breath getting shorter, body getting shakier. He sobbed and weeped until he started sputtering, coughing into his jeans. Each sob felt weaker yet stronger, each thought cutting deeper yet deeper. He not dare look up to see the mess he'd become now, too pathetic to stand at the face of reality. Wallowing in his own tears. He continued sobbing until he couldn't hardly breathe, starting to hyperventilate. He was wrong. He was wrong. He was nothing but wrong.

  
Gavin was alone, but he could feel eyes boring into him from every angle, staring and judging and whispering. Phantom hands held onto his shoulders, tight enough that he felt like he would break, and he thrashed violently in the imaginary grip, voice breaking as he screamed as loud as he could.    
  
“Don’t touch me! Don’t fucking touch me!”   
  
There was no answer, of course there wasn’t, and it was like something snapped. He started crying harder, gasping for breath, descending into hysterics.    
  
Pumpkin meowed louder, distressed for her human. Why was he so loud?

 

Gavin ignored the feline, grabbing at his hair, clawing at the sides of his face. Voices. Voices. The fucking voices. Taunting, insulting, grabbing at him for attention from every direction, he couldn't escape. He wanted out. Out of his own head. Out. Out. Out. OUT.   
  
"Out! Get out! Shut the fuck up! Get away from me!"   
  
He cried and yelled frantically and the voices only got louder. He buried his head in his knees, gripping his hands over his ears with streams down his cheeks.

 

Time went by in lurches and lulls, dragging its feet but seeming like two seconds at the same time, his agonising wails tapering off into soft sobs, his shoulders heaving.    
  
It was a painful sight, Nines arriving home expecting sarcasm and cuddles and being greeted with the wreck that Gavin had become. His LED whirled crimson as his scanners went wild, searching for any signs of physical trauma to the detective. He found nothing, other than crescent marks in Gavin’s palms and strands of hair caught in his fingers from pulling so hard at his own head. Increase in cortisol and adrenaline, decrease in estrogen and serotonin. Gavin was having a panic attack, and had been for quite some time considering the extremes of his hormonal levels.

  
Nines frantically searched through his database for information on how to comfort his weeping partner, through file after file of information. It seemed as though Gavin hadn't even acknowledged him to be kneeling next to him with vain attempts to calm the broken man. Hormone levels spiked up and down, his reading almost incomprehensible.

  
He cautiously rested a hand on Gavin’s back, the man immediately freezing apart from his shaking sobs. “G-get your hand off of me,” he murmured lowly, voice hoarse from screaming. Nines immediately removed his hand, feeling cold settle uneasily in him, deep inside his biocomponents. His LED seemed to throb as Gavin started whispering softly to himself. Pumpkin rubbed up against him, meowing in concern.   
  
Nines stayed as close as possible without making Gavin uncomfortable, his thirium pump aching as he heard the words Gavin was uttering under his breath.    
  
“Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong...”

  
He frowned, guilt clouding over him. He understood he couldn't do anything to help, but it hurt so much. He wanted nothing but for Gavin to be happy, but there they were, on the ground. Nines looking on with defeat as Gavin shook and cried and sputtered out small repeating phrases. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came forth to present themselves. No sounds of empathy or anything close to emotion, just silence and heartbreak.

  
“Would you like to take a shower?” He murmured eventually, glancing towards the window. It was pitch black outside, the room only visible from the light Gavin had turned on god knows when and Nines’ LED, still pulsing a heart-aching red.   
  
Gavin shrugged a bit. He felt numb, he felt empty, his throat sore from crying and dry from thirst, his skin prickling uncomfortably from tears, his body aching from staying curled up so tightly. He didn’t feel motivated to move. If he was in control of making his heart beat, he wouldn’t want to do that either. He felt... nothing. Nothing except a resigned, tired pain.

  
Nines could tell Gavin still wasn't calm enough to logic with, sighing sadly to himself at such a muted response. "Do you want me to help you up?" he asked gently, hesitantly leaning a bit closer.

  
Gavin flinched almost unnoticeably, and Nines immediately resumed his previous position, dread making his circuits run cold. It was like Gavin was afraid of him, just like when they first met, before Gavin saw Nines could be capable of feeling. “Don’t touch me. I don’t deserve it.”   
  
The android blinked, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as he scrambled for something to say. Gavin thought he didn’t deserve for Nines to touch him? Where did that notion come from?   
  
Whatever answer he could have given evaporated into thin air when Gavin sighed, rubbing his face slowly as he shakily got to his feet. “I... think I’m gonna sleep in the living room tonight,” he mumbled, voice hoarse as he avoided looking at Nines. 

Nines watched powerlessly as Gavin unraveled himself from the ball he was in and manage to stand, half tripping and half wandering out of the room. Pumpkin rubbed her face against Nines' leg, looking up at him and mewling. He glanced down at her and sighed, scratching the kitty behind her ear and standing. He had work tomorrow, and it was already past his usual bed time.

  
The bed felt too big when he lay down, still in his uniform, shoes and all. He didn’t scold Pumpkin when she jumped up on the bed, instead letting the cat curl up against his chest, snug against his thirium pump regulator. Her purring comforted Nines, the android falling into stasis, the fact that he’d have to leave Gavin alone tomorrow shoved willingly to the back of his mind.   
  
He made a mental note to hide all sharp objects while Gavin was still sleeping.


End file.
